


saltwater

by ephemeraldt



Category: BLACKPINK (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, F/F, Non-Linear Narrative, fuck yg lives, jennie is kind of angsty and kind of not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 16:17:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20509883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeraldt/pseuds/ephemeraldt
Summary: “You’re worried about your son being good enough for Jisoo, and not Jisoo being good enough for your son?” Lisa snorts.“Yes,” Jennie says, without hesitating.





	saltwater

**Author's Note:**

> tw: i allude to the burning sun scandal.
> 
> all of the months are in 2019. thanks to @kvetching and @citrusflower for reading over this for me. 
> 
> disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. if you or someone you know (god forbid) is mentioned here, please don't read this.

March

Korea loves Jisoo. Korea loves all of them, to some degree, but Korea _ really _loves Jisoo. 

“They wrote a whole article about how Jisoo is the type of girl sons want to bring home to their mothers,” Lisa says at dinner. The four of them are exhausted - comeback preparations are underway - and the takeout on the table isn’t on anyone’s diet plan, but they don’t mention it. 

“Must be a slow news day,” Jisoo says. But she doesn’t seem particularly bothered, partly because she’s Jisoo and partly because anything good in the news these days is a godsend. Whispers are trickling down from headquarters, saying anyone high up could be fired at any moment. Jennie feels sick to her stomach when she thinks about all the hands she’s shaken in a professional context, the same hands that would go to cause unbelievable pain when no one was looking. The many pairs of eyes that watched her grow up, hiding their intentions.

If Jennie thinks about it for long, she’ll cry, and she’s cried way too much these last few months. 

“I think Jisoo is a very important news story,” Jennie says. “The whole country’s in love with her.” 

Jisoo smiles her wide-toothed smile, and Jennie is hit with the sheer...strength of it. Jisoo’s smile kind of reminds her of what a sunny day is supposed to feel like. Not the reality, when everyone is sweaty and gross and sunburnt at the end of the day, but the ideal. The feeling that comes with the forecast. 

“Are you saying you’d let your son date Jisoo?” Chaeyoung asks. 

“It depends. He’d have to prove that he was good enough.”

“He would be,” Jisoo says, taking a bite of chicken. “If you raised him, he would be.” 

“You’re worried about your son being good enough for Jisoo, and not Jisoo being good enough for your son?” Lisa snorts. 

“Yes,” Jennie says, without hesitating. 

“I think Jisoo should date someone her own age,” Chaeyoung says. 

Jennie silently agrees. It’s not something she likes to think about, though. She feels sort of sick when she sees the way men look at Jisoo, whether it be with pure adoration or twisted want. If people knew, they would probably say Jennie is jealous of all the positive attention Jisoo gets. But that’s not it. Jennie knows Jisoo deserves all of the praise.

She just isn’t sure anyone deserves Jisoo in return. 

January

When the pictures of Jennie and Kai are leaked, the four of them are officially put on lockdown. No leaving the dorm, no posting on social media, not until they get word from a manager that the company has decided how to handle the situation. 

For the record, Jennie hates being a situation. Dating scandals were much more fun from the other side of the clickbait headline. 

There’s an unread text from Kai on Jennie’s phone. She doesn’t want to talk to him right now, so she scrolls through twitter instead, on her private account. She’s been called names before, but this - this is a new level of vitriol, only made worse by the fact that she can’t tear herself away. 

What is she supposed to do, anyway? The tension in the air doesn’t exactly make for a great conversational environment. 

Chaeyoung locked herself in her room two hours ago, probably to call her parents or her therapist or to just sit there, being mad at Jennie. Jennie doesn’t blame her. If this were a different circumstance, Jennie would try to talk some sense into Chaeyoung - tell her that she’s catastrophizing (like she always does), that the chances the company will disband them over this are slim, that everything will be okay. Except the words would mean less than nothing coming from Jennie right now. 

“Well, if anyone is going to get away with this, it’s you,” Lisa says with a half-smile, and Jennie knows it’s supposed to be comforting, but it just makes her feel guilty. 

So Jennie excuses herself to her room and crashes face-down on her bed. If she cries, it means everything’s gotten to her, so she holds her breath and wills her face to cooperate. 

Then, there’s a gentle knock at the door. “Can I come in?” 

Jennie knows, even before she hears the words, that it’s Jisoo. “Sure,” she huffs, without looking up or moving. 

She hears soft footsteps on the carpet, and then feels someone sit next to her on the bed. A warm hand on her back. Fingers through her hair, because Jisoo knows how to calm Jennie down. 

“Are you mad at me too?” Jennie asks. She hates how vulnerable she sounds, but it’s not like she has a choice right now, and it’s Jisoo. Jisoo has a way of gliding over Jennie’s hard edges. A sixth sense, sort of, that makes it impossible for Jennie to hold it together as she would around anyone else. 

“Never,” Jisoo answers. “I’d never be mad at you.”

“You should be,” Jennie says, sitting up. Jisoo’s hair is pulled back and her face is clean of makeup. She looks young like this, with her wide eyes taking Jennie in - Jennie, with her clothes a mess and cheeks wet with tears and snot. “I was irresponsible. I was fucking - I don’t know. You should be mad at me.” 

“Maybe,” Jisoo murmurs. “But I’m not. You can’t change that.”  
  
“Promise?” 

“Always,” Jisoo says, cupping Jennie’s face in her hands. Wordlessly, she puts her arm around Jennie’s shoulders, letting Jennie’s head rest against her neck. They stay there like that for what feels like hours, until Jennie can swallow without pain and breathe without heaving. 

April

They’re in California, and Jennie feels more at home in her body than she has in months. The adrenaline from last night’s performance is still humming in her veins, and the sunshine on the water is beautiful from every direction. 

It’s their third interview of the day, and they’re seated across from a white guy in his mid-twenties who doesn’t seem to have done much research beforehand. 

“You all speak English so well,” he comments. Next to her, Jisoo stiffens. Probably because she recognized the word “English” and she’s smarter than anyone here or back home gives her credit for. 

There’s a lot of pressure on them to do well in America, and Jennie knows Jisoo feels it too. None of them mind helping her with the language, but Jisoo seems to dislike being the one who’s singled out. Jisoo is always hardest on herself, even though she deserves it the least. 

So Jennie reaches for Jisoo’s hand and squeezes. _ I’m here, _ Jennie thinks, extra loud so Jisoo might understand. _ I’m here and I can see that you’re incredible. _

They lock eyes. Jisoo seems to relax, leaning into Jennie slightly. Jennie wonders what they would look like if they were in a different room, without Chaeyoung or Lisa or the interviewer or the knowledge that they were being watched and recorded. If they were just them. Maybe she’d squeeze Jisoo’s hand twice as hard. Maybe she’d pull away sooner. 

When the interview ends, they take a cab back to the hotel. Lisa announces that she wants to see the Walk of Fame, and Chaeyoung agrees to accompany her. 

“What are you two going to do?” Chaeyoung asks, rubbing sunscreen on her shoulders. “It’s a free evening. The world’s your oyster.” 

“I want to go to the pool,” Jisoo says, lifting her eyebrows at Jennie. 

“Fine,” Jennie says. It isn’t like she has anything better to do. 

It’s a nice pool, anyway, limited to hotel guests. Everyone around has an expensive look about them, like they exist purely to be seen. Jennie can recline on a pool chair, hide behind her Gucci shades, and not worry about unwelcome eyes lingering on her. 

Except it’s been fifteen minutes since Jisoo left to go to the bathroom, and the line didn’t seem like it would be that long. Jennie scans the scene, just in case Jisoo slipped or got lost or something. 

What she sees is Jisoo smiling and nodding at some guy who looks like he sells diet tea on Instagram. Jennie puts her phone down. 

“Who was that?” Jennie asks, as Jisoo sits back down in her pool chair. 

Jisoo shrugs. “I don’t know, I couldn’t understand him.”

“He’s cute.”

“Do you think so?”

“Yeah.”

Jisoo nods to herself, seemingly contemplating Jennie’s words. Her hair is pulled back into a twist, and her toenails are painted white to match her bathing suit. 

_ I could translate for you. _ Jennie thinks. _ You’re the best person I know. You deserve to live a little. _

But she doesn’t say it. 

January

Kai was - is - hot. That much is obvious. And there are times when Jennie feels invincible. Times when she tests her limits just to see if they still exist. 

It turns out that they do, every time. But it’s not that she doesn’t know what’s good for her, it’s that she doesn’t always prefer to do it. 

A week before the pictures came out, she remembers lying in Kai’s bed, staring up at his ceiling. She was feeling weirdly self-conscious so she put her bra back on. If Kai noticed, he didn’t say anything. 

“What are we doing?” she asked. 

“Having a good time,” Kai answered. His voice sounded distracted. “Not everything has to be serious, you know.” 

It sounded nice at the time. But in the coming days, Jennie learned that everything is serious when it comes to her. The slightest step out of line will be blown out of proportion and left to fester in the acidic underbelly of online forums and gossip sites, before re-emerging to blow up in her face: a puffy, monstrous mutilation of its original self. 

When she’s looking out into the audience at a performance, all she sees is dark shadows cut up with swirls of lights. She can’t make out anyone’s eyes, but in her mind, they’re all on her, waiting for her to mess up again. Onstage or off. 

Jennie’s sick of it. But it doesn’t feel like her fault. There are times when she feels invincible and then, more often these days, there are times when she feels like some part of herself is already dead and past the point of trying to save. 

June

Travelling is exhausting. Tonight, though, feels different. YG resigned, and the future is blurry and uncertain, yet bright. Brighter than it’s been in a year, maybe longer. There’s something almost smug in Jennie’s chest- she wants to laugh and cry and _ sing. _

Chaeyoung pops open a bottle of champagne. “Just cause,” she says, even though all four of them know why. It feels like a weird thing to celebrate, so they don’t acknowledge it out loud. It doesn’t stop them from laughing, or Lisa from dancing, though. 

Jennie leans back, catching sight of her reflection in the hotel room mirror. Her cheeks are flushed from the alcohol, but she looks good. She looks like a winner. Next to her, Jisoo is watching Lisa dance with that smile on her face, as if she hasn’t seen Lisa dance a million times. Jennie leans over to rest her chin on Jisoo’s shoulder, her face pressing against the side of her neck. 

“They need us more than we need them now,” Jennie says against Jisoo’s skin. 

“They always have. Now maybe they’ll see it,” Jisoo replies.  
  
Jennie knows they will. She knows that the four of them are something special, that they could rule the world if they wanted to. Sounds like an awful lot of responsibility, but she might be up to the challenge, if Jisoo is by her side. 

She’s up for anything, if Jisoo is by her side. 

“Do you know?” Jennie whispers, quiet so Chaeyoung and Lisa won’t hear. Not that they’re paying attention. 

“Know what?” Jisoo asks. Her voice is light and unassuming, like a fucking kid’s. Jisoo always talks to Jennie the same way, even if Jennie is falling apart right in front of her. The side of Jisoo’s neck is hot against Jennie’s cheek, and Jennie’s own body feels like liquid. There are times when she feels invincible. There are times-

“It’s nothing,” Jennie says.

“Please, just tell me.” 

There’s a brief second, probably due to the alcohol fogging her brain, where Jennie considers it. But she doesn’t trust herself with the words. She doesn’t even know if she has them.

“Thanks,” Jennie says, instead. “For sticking with me.” 

"Always," Jisoo says, pressing a light kiss onto Jennie's temple. It's the kind of thing they do all the time, but in her current state, Jennie reminds herself to treasure it. To treasure everything. 

**Author's Note:**

> "you couldn't lose me if you tried."
> 
> follow me on twitter @epheyoob


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